


I Walk the Line

by genevievedarcygranger



Series: Hotch x Reader / Hotch x You [14]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: AFAB reader - Freeform, Begging, Bisexual Aaron Hotchner, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Collars, Day 12 Kinktober, Day 12 Kinktober 2020, Day 12 Kinktober 2020 Intercrural Sex, Day 12 Kinktober Intercrural Sex, Day Twelve Kinktober, Day Twelve Kinktober 2020, Day Twelve Kinktober 2020 Intercrural Sex, Day Twelve Kinktober Intercrural Sex, Dom/sub, Domestic, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Frottage, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Intercrural Sex, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Kneeling, Lube, M/M, Masturbation, One Shot, POV Second Person, Possessive Behavior, Prompt: Intercrural Sex, Punishment, Reader-Insert, Romance, Short One Shot, Smut, Song Lyrics, Song: I Walk the Line (Johnny Cash), Sub Aaron Hotchner, Vaginal Fingering, bisexual reader, brief aftercare, crawling, dom reader, ruined orgasm, thigh fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:54:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26965492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genevievedarcygranger/pseuds/genevievedarcygranger
Summary: Hotch asks for punishment, and you remind him that he is yours.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Reader, Aaron Hotchner/You
Series: Hotch x Reader / Hotch x You [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862236
Kudos: 46





	I Walk the Line

_"You've got a way to keep me on your side._

_You give me cause for love that I can't hide._

_For you I know I'd even try to turn the tide."_

\- "I Walk the Line," _Johnny Cash_

* * *

When you got home from work, you were greeted with a very lovely sight. Hotch managed to get home from his case at a decent hour, for once. He had taken the liberty of kneeling in the living room to greet you, already wearing his play collar and stripped down to just his underwear. You congratulated yourself for being too lazy to grocery shop, because if you had entered carrying your bags, they would've been spilled everywhere. As it is, you had to tamp down on your excitement so you wouldn't just go ahead and tackle him where he knelt.

"Hi, baby," you said in an even tone, hiding your pleasure.

"Welcome home," Hotch greeted you, and you could tell he was already deep in subspace by how light and airy his voice was. A quick glance down to his tented boxers only confirmed your suspicions.

"What's this?" You asked him, taking the time to hang up your coat and put your keys away. How your fingers didn't tremble, you didn't know.

"I," Hotch started to explain with a blush, "I wanted to surprise you." His eyes were wide and eager as he stared up at your expectantly. "Do you, do you not like it?"

Finally, you crossed the room to stand in front of him. "Oh, I do like this pretty sight very much, baby." Your index finger hooked through the O-ring of his collar easily and gave a playful tug. "Were you good while you were gone?"

At this, Hotch dropped his eyes, and you suddenly knew why Hotch was presenting himself. You prompted, "Do you need to be punished?"

Slowly, he nodded.

"What do you need to be punished for?"

In Hotch's mind, it could be any number of reasons, and you've slowly learned to filter out what he thought he needed to be punished for with actual issues. Sometimes he asked to be punished when a case went badly, when they couldn't save the victims or find the unsub. Those punishments were more like distractions, when Hotch just wanted to feel something other than failure, to taste something besides defeat.

This time, though, Hotch's reason surprised you. "I…touched myself," he admitted. The very tips of his ears were so red that you thought they might burn your fingertips at a touch.

You had never explicitly given him the rule to not touch himself. But maybe this was his emotionally constipated way to admit that he missed you. "Did you come?"

"Yes." Hotch sounded miserable, as if the orgasm hadn't been satisfying at all.

"Naughty boy." You shook your head in mock consternation. "Come to the bedroom." Hotch went to stand but you immediately stopped him with a hand to his bare shoulder. "No. Good boys walk. Bad boys crawl. And what are you?"

Hotch flushed an even deeper red. "I'm a bad boy."

"That's right." You led the way to your bedroom, and once there you started to strip, ignoring him. Once you were naked, you fetched the lube from your nightstand drawer and walked back in front of Hotch again.

He had resumed kneeling, waiting patiently for further instruction. His eyes were glued to your naked form, throat bobbing nervously. The tent in his boxers was huge.

Without a word, you squeezed a generous dollop of lube on your hands and spread your legs apart, still standing. You brought your lubed hands between your legs and started smearing it into your thighs, teasing both Hotch and yourself in the process. Slowly, you started to work your way up, massaging your muscles along the way. As your fingers neared your entrance, you started to get wet with excitement, but it wasn't enough yet if you wanted to catch up to Hotch's arousal level.

You swirled your fingers around your clit to get you started, and then used the fingers of the other hand to tease your opening until you could fit two fingers inside. As you started to rhythmically swirl and pump, you watched Hotch's mouth fall open. He had leaned forward, resting his knuckles on the ground. His tongue flicked over his bottom lip, and you shuddered at the thought of his talent mouth on you. But that would've been a reward, and that wasn't what he needed.

"Baby?"

Immediately, his eyes snapped up to yours with a guilty start. "Yes?"

"Go get a towel. One of the bigger ones."

He nodded and turned on his knees. This time he didn't need a reminder to crawl as he went to get a towel. When he returned, he had carried it in his mouth so he wouldn't break anymore rules. The sight of him so obedient did things to you, and you knew he caught your shudder of pleasure by the darkness of his brown eyes.

Expectantly, you held out a hand, and Hotch passed the towel to you, still in his mouth. You tugged it free of his teeth and spread it on the bed behind you, making a show of bending over so he could see how your cunt dripped. Your thighs shined with lube, and you pressed them together and rubbed, noting how your skin glided together now thanks to the lube. You could feel the wetness seep from your legs, and the squelching sound was nearly obscene though you hardly did anything yet.

Risking a glance over your shoulder, you noted Hotch tucked his bottom lip into his mouth. He had yet to touch himself, though you knew he desperately wanted to. This was also a new punishment you wanted to test, so he had no idea what was coming. You figured that this punishment would fit his crime.

"Do you want to fuck me, baby?" You asked, reaching behind you to palm at your ass. The motion spread and lifted your cheeks, showing a peep more of bare pussy.

Nodding, Hotch begged, "Please, please can I fuck you? My fist wasn't good enough." Almost with something colored like shyness, he admitted, "I thought of you the whole time. I wished it was you touching me, fucking me. No one makes me come like you do."

His confession got you wetter. "No one, baby? That right?" You teased him. Slowly, you moved your hips to the left and right, just swaying your hips and shifting your weight, something you're sure he would like to do to relieve the pressure on his knees. "Then why did you touch yourself, baby? Why do you think you need to be punished for fucking your fist?"

Shaking his head, Hotch dragged his eyes away from your ass to meet your gaze. "I…I don't know. Just want you."

"So needy," you commented idly. You looked forward again, gaze on the headboard, but mind somewhere else. The thought of Hotch in his big, lonely, and strange hotel bed, probably kneeling on the ugly bedspread, or maybe tucked under the sheets with his head burrowed as well… His cock in hand, his movements too fast as he treated masturbation as just a perfunctory bodily motion like brushing his teeth or combing his hair instead of the catharsis it is meant to be… Heat pooled low in your belly. Your baby didn't treat himself right.

"You may stand now," you called behind you. While Hotch scrambled to his feet, you propped your elbows on the bed on top of the towel you had laid out, bowing your back at a comfortable angle. You moved your legs apart, but only a little so that your thighs barely touched. Lying in wait, the lube was where you left it on the bedspread. "Come over here and get some lube on your hands, baby. Just your hands."

Obedient as ever, Hotch mirrored your earlier actions, spreading a generous dollop of lube over his fingers and palms. This was one of the scentless, flavorless lubes, one that you didn't use much unless you knew that nobody was getting oral. Considering this was a punishment, you knew oral was out of the question. Hotch enjoyed giving more than he did receiving.

"You may lube up your cock."

As you waited, you heard the slick noises. Hotch grunted, but only once. He was clearly trying to be good.

"Now I want you to fuck my thighs like a good boy," you ordered. "You can slide as close as you want to my hole, but you cannot slip inside. Do you understand me, baby? Don't slip." Even though he couldn't see it, you smiled. "And you have to make me come."

Behind you, you heard Hotch whine as he realized what his punishment was. "Okay, I'll be your good boy," he told you earnestly as he stepped up against your back. His presence was closer than your shadow as he molded himself to your shape. Hotch's cock prodded at your thighs before the lube allowed it to slide through. At the first touch, he whimpered, but since he didn't have to wait for you to adjust, he started a quick pace.

At first, he kept his cock too low to stimulate you, only serve to tease himself. You didn't mind, knowing that he had probably been hard for a while before you came home. Before you could complain, though, you felt Hotch shift upward, searching for your slit.

His cockhead came dangerously close to impaling you, but he just brushed by your entrance, slotting his dick between your labia lips. He didn't stop pushing until his cockhead ran over your clit, protruding from its hood. This time you couldn't stop your own moan as he finally started giving you pleasure.

"Oh, yes," you hissed into the air. Your hands dropped down to the bedspread, avoiding messing up where you had the towel, and fisted the material. You moved your hips with his movements, chasing your pleasure, but this only made it harder for Hotch to not disobey you as his cockhead caught on your entrance and threatened to enter you. "Don't you slip now, baby. You need to be good and make this up to me. Make me come."

At your back, Hotch whined wordlessly, but kept up his movements. You could feel just how thick he was between your legs, all the lube and your own natural slickness making everything so wet, messy, and loud. It was as close as you could get to sex without penetration, and it felt so good that you might just do this more often. The benefit would be that you wouldn't be so sore in the morning, but the loss of the splash of Hotch's come inside of you was going to be deeply missed. Either way, it was messy.

"Don't slip," you started to chant at him, reminding him of what he couldn't have as you neared your peak. "Don't slip, don't slip, don't slip–" Your words started to blur together as speech became difficult. You cut yourself off with a sharp cry as your climax hit. Pushing your ass back against Hotch's pelvis, your thighs clamped down around his dick, preventing any further movement. Your pussy started to gush, dripping your release over his well-lubricated cock. Boneless, you sagged your posture, but did not yet move any further than that, not allowing yourself to collapse on the bed.

"Oh, please," Hotch spoke up behind you. His hips pressed against your rear, his bones sharp and angular against your flesh. "Please, please let me come. I wanna come, too. I've been a good boy."

"You think you get to come?" You laughed at him, and then deliberately clenched your thighs around his cock, which caused him to choke on his own spit. "Okay, you can come," you granted permission, "but you better tell me the second you do."

"Thank you, thank you, I will." He started fucking your thighs in earnest now, no longer having to angle himself to hit your clit. That was fine since you were too overstimulated for that to be pleasurable. Soon, Hotch started to babble, "I'm gonna – I'm gonna come, oh, oh!"

At the words, you surged forward on the bed, removing the source of his stimulation as you crawled away from him. It effectively ruined his orgasm, and Hotch's sharp cry told you so as he spilled onto the towel fitfully. When you turned to look, there were tears streaming down his face, and his hands were gripping the footboard as his cock went soft.

"That's what you get for being a bad boy." You crawled back to him and cradled his limp cock in your palm. It was dripping with lube, and he drew in a sharp breath at your touch, too sensitive to get hard again that quickly after his orgasm. "This little cock belongs to me, baby. It only gets to come when I want it to – and it only gets to come after me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand."

"There's my good boy." You dropped your hand away, and then ended the scene with the address of his given name. "Okay, Aaron. Let's get you cleaned up and some food in your belly."

He knuckled away his tears, his shoulders already sagging into a relaxed posture. "That sounds nice."

You gave him a half-smile. "It does. Now give me a kiss. I've missed you."

Hotch mirrored your smile as he closed the distance between your bodies again. "I missed you, too."


End file.
